


Fandot Creativity Night 1

by SisterWicked



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7009981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterWicked/pseuds/SisterWicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just something I did for the #fandot creativity night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fandot Creativity Night 1

"..and so I found myself practically forced to take it. Really, who wants to insult one of the noblest bloodlines in the world by refusing to accept so trifling a gift?"

Martin scoffed as his First Officer concluded his tale. "Oh, certainly, Douglas. Let us not refuse the thousand pound multimedia device offered in leiu of actual _money_." He slumped tiredly into his seat, eyeing the video camera with intense dislike. "It isn't even boxed, were you planning to hawk it 'round the corner before Carolyn finds out, or were you looking to test the limits of your health insurance policy?"

Douglas spread his hands expansively, ignoring the other's jibe. "Certainly not. Why would I do that when poor Arthur has all but convinced himself that it's his using the microwave to dry his socks that's done it in? We don't know for certain that it was Mr. Tashinaka's attempts at heating his saki that did it, it could easily-"

Martin cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Either way, you're forgetting that thing that the rest of us like to call _reality_ , Douglas. Carolyn isn't going to care why the galley is ruined, only that it **is** ruined. And since I'm supposed to be the one in charge, the penalty naturally falls to me." He ignored the other's dismissive wave, once again reminded of his complete lack of anything resembling good fortune. "Besides, we can't let Arthur take the blame for something we can't even prove, no matter how tempting it may be. No amount of double-talking or excuses from you will make that anything but seriously not good.. I'll just have to resign myself to yet another example of how the universe detests me."

Eyeing his morose expression, the older man sighed. "Would you happen to have a safety pin about you, O Great And Worthy Sir..?"

Snorting, Martin gestured toward the flight deck's locker. "In there,Douglas. You know regulations clearly state that we cannot have potentially dangerous objects on our persons while on duty. That includes the box of pins that you, for some reason, attempted to hide below your seat."

Rolling his eyes in a long-suffering manner, the First Officer rose to inspect the contents of the locker, smiling faintly as he returned to his seat. "The box is empty."

Annoyed with the interruption of his melancholy, Martin shrugged indifferently. "What does it matter..? Not even _you_ can build a new microwave out of pins, Douglas."

The older man nodded. "Obviously not.. But tell me, aren't you the least bit curious as to where they've gone? As you say, dangerous items and all.."

Settling further into his seat, he sighed. "Sir should really pay more attention to his cabin crew.. Haven't you noticed that the inestimable Arthur has been wearing matching socks for a week now? How does Sir account for this astonishing development?"

Martin ignored the condescending tone, twisting to face him fully. "What does that have to do with anything? Maybe Carolyn has given up and started sorting them herself- " He broke off, discarding **that** notion immediately. "Or he figured it out himself. In either case, what's the point?"

"Well, it seems that our resident beloved clot has resorted to the simple expedient of pinning all his dirty socks together so they don't go missing in the wash.. And after losing a fair number of pins, he concluded that each sock should have its own pin, to be left in place at all times. Do you know what happens to a microwave when one inserts a metal object into it, Martin? Or many small mettalic objects at a time..?"

The younger man gaped at his co-pilot for all of a minute, swallowing thickly. "He wouldn't- Douglas, are you absolutely certain- "

Douglas continued, his voice somewhat bored."And further, our insurance most certainly covers 'Disasters By Way of Arthur'. We'd already be sacked if it didn't. Besides, he told me himself just a few days ago." His sardonic delivery was marred by the upward twitch of his lips.

Despite himself, Martin grinned in reply. "Well, I suppose we should let _him_ explain that to Carolyn, then."

Suddenly, his fortune seemed to be somewhat better already.


End file.
